Potter, Potter, Potter!
by Drindrak
Summary: Potter is a common surname in the muggle world. So why haven't there been any muggleborn with the name? A bunch of one-shots detailing the many muggleborn and not-so-muggleborn Potters. Lots of OCs.


**A/N: Also known as, that fic where eleven year old Tom Riddle meets one of said muggleborn Potters on the train first year, but, really, that doesn't change much.**

**And not every shot will be humourous, but most should be.**

* * *

#1: Robert Potter, 1938

* * *

Robert Potter was, as far as he knew, an ordinary little boy. His father, Thomas Potter, was a soldier and had just returned from mandatory training for the war that was brewing. His mother, Helen Potter, worked in a factory that made bullets and other cool things. Robert had his mother's dark brown, almost black, hair and his father's warm brown eyes and a smattering of freckles that his parents thought came from his maternal grandfather. He was also rather wiry and short for his age, but he knew he was due for a growth spurt any day now.

Today, August 9th, was his birthday, and he was turning eleven. Robert woke early that morning, and quickly threw on a pair of trousers and a dark coloured shirt, and raced downstairs, where he could smell breakfast being made. He smiled at his mother, who was standing at the stove, poking at the eggs in her pan, and sat down next to his father. As his mother placed a plate of breakfast in front of him, his father cleared his throat and folded the newspaper in his hands.

"Robert, something came for you earlier, a letter." Robert took a bite of his eggs and nodded. "Well, I left it on the table in the sitting room, and you can read it when you finish your food." Robert's eyes lit up and he scarfed down all his food in record time, before rushing to the sitting room, ignoring his father's deep chuckles and his mother's giggles.

Once he was in the sitting room, he grabbed the letter and sat down on the sofa. The envelope was heavy and seemed to be made of some really weird paper that smelt real old. Robert scrunched up his nose and looked down at the letter. His eyebrows shot up in surprise at the very detailed address on the front.

_Robert Potter,_

_The First Bedroom,_

_The Third Apartment on the Right,_

_Barking, London_

"Odd..." He whispered, before he turned the envelope over and broke the funny-looking wax seal on it. He withdrew the letter inside, and dropped the envelope on the table. He read through the letter, and, as he neared the end, his brow drew together in a frown. He reread the letter, just to make sure he hadn't made a mistake, and shook his head before standing. "Mother! Father! This letter's all wonky!" He shouted, making his way into the kitchen. "What in the devil is a Hogwarts?"

* * *

A few hours later, after his family gave up puzzling over the odd letter, a knock came at the door. Robert's mother brushed off her dress and went to answer. Robert and his father got up as well and followed, wondering who was at the door. Robert peeked past his mother, and saw a graying man with auburn hair, a wicked beard, and blue eyes that twinkled from behind half-moon spectacles.

"Hello, Mrs. Potter is it? My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I am a Professor at Hogwarts. May I come in and speak with you and your family?"

"Is this about the letter? Please, do come in, we have a lot of questions!" His mother moved out of the way and waved the man in, and they all made their way into the sitting room.

"I can imagine you are all quite surprised." Dumbledore started, getting nods all around. "Well, to start with, magic is real." Dumbledore got out a thin brown wand, and tapped the empty armchair, transforming it into large toad. "Young Robert here, has this ability. At Hogwarts, he will get the education necessary to utilize his gift to the best of his ability." Robert sat, in between his parents, as Dumbledore told fantastical tales about Hogwarts. Once he finished, Robert turned to his parents and beamed up at them.

"Oh can I go? Can I? I want to learn magic!" His parents looked at each other, before smiling down at Robert and nodding. Robert hugged both his parents as Dumbledore waved and left.

* * *

A few weeks later, on September 1st, Robert sat in a compartment near the back of the large crimson train that would take him to Hogwarts. He had a book on Charms open in his lap, and he was waving his wand (_Willow and Unicorn hair, 12 and a half inches, he remembered Ollivander telling him_) in the motions of a few spells. He set a book on Transfiguration on the seat opposite of him, and stuck his tongue out in concentration. He waved his wand in the pattern the book said too, and said aloud,

"Wingardium Leviosa!" The Transfiguration book shuddered, but remained on the seat. Robert frowned, but tried again. "Wingardium Leviosa!" The book shuddered again, but lifted a few centimeters off the seat. Robert grinned, and retrieved his book. Just as he sat back down, a knock came at the door, startling him. "C-Come in!" A dark-haired boy that looked about his age entered, dragging a shoddy, second-hand trunk, much like Robert's own, behind him. The boy ran his eyes over Robert's second-hand school supplies, and gave him a tiny smile.

"My name's Tom. Can I sit here?"

* * *

Robert bit his thumb-nail nervously as he stood next to his new, hopefully, friend, Tom. He listened as Professor Dumbledore explained about the four Houses and he swallowed roughly. _'What if he didn't belong in any of them?'_ His thoughts were interrupted by Tom, who whispered to him,

"Professor Dumbledore's the one who introduced me to magic." Robert smiled and nodded.

"He introduced me too! My parents were very skeptical you see." Robert ignored the curious stares and the few glares he got as Tom nodded.

"He's real great, isn't he?"

"Yeah! But he's kind of weird too, you know, the way his eyes twinkle like that?" Tom made to respond, but he was cut off by Dumbledore leading them into a large hall, where hundreds of students were chattering. Then, Dumbledore got out a ragged old hat and a small stool, and then, the hat began singing! Robert cringed back, as did Tom.

"It's rather off-key, isn't it?" Robert nodded, but didn't respond, as Dumbledore began calling out names. Robert fidgeted as the names were called. Finally, after a _Nott, Judith!_ and an _Owsten, James!_ were called, Dumbledore called out,

"Potter, Robert!" He saw several heads turn and one boy, who had dark brown hair and looked like he was just a few years older than him, at the Gryffindor table, gaped openly at him as he made his way to the stool.

_"__Mister Potter, is it? I didn't know that there was another Potter coming to Hogwarts this year._" Something whispered into his ears once the hat was on, and Robert blinked. _"Oh, a _muggleborn _Potter! Well, let's see, where would you go?"_ Robert frowned as the hat stopped talking for a minute. _"Definitely not Slytherin. Ah! I see, very well, you should go to-"_

**"****GRYFFINDOR!"** The red and gold table burst into applause as Robert lifted the hat from his head and made his way over. The brown-haired boy who had been gaping at him waved Robert over, and the new Gryffindor sat down opposite of him, but waved off the other boy's talking attempts, as the next name was called.

"Riddle, Tom!" His hopefully-a-friend, Tom, sauntered up to the stool and shoved the hat onto his head. Tom began moving his mouth, and Robert figured that Tom was trying to convince the hat to send him over to Gryffindor with him. He saw Tom look at him from under the hat's brim, and Robert could just barely see the hope in his eyes die and his face pale slightly when the hat shouted,

**"****SLYTHERIN!"** Robert shook his head, but clapped anyways, hoping that Tom and him could remain friends even in rival houses.

* * *

Their friendship didn't last. They were fine friends until second year, when Tom started getting passes to the Restricted Section of the Library, and Robert joined the Quidditch Team as a reserve Chaser. They drifted apart, and one day, when Robert was in his fifth year, he spotted Tom across the Great Hall, and wondered, where had their friendship gone? Tom was surrounded by many strictly Slytherin families, Black, Nott, Lestrange, and even a Malfoy. They seemed to be sharing some sort of joke, as Tom chuckled. Robert frowned, and shook his head, returning to his conversation with Charlus Potter, who was graduating that year. Charlus was regaling him with a tale of his Invisibility Cloak, which his father had given him the year before, but he wasn't allowed to bring to Hogwarts. Robert laughed when one of the sixth year girls made an inappropriate comment about what he'd do with it had he been able to bring it.

* * *

Robert found himself next to Tom at the end of seventh year, as their graduation ceremony began winding down. Robert eyed Tom from the corner of his eyes, absently wondering what happened to the hopeful eleven year old he had been friends with. He hadn't had enough time to ask what Tom would be doing for the rest of his life, as Charlus, who had come with his elderly parents and his newly married wife, Dorea, dragged him off for a quick chat. Robert glanced back at Tom, just in time to see Tom turn away from where he was staring at Robert's retreating back, and strike up a conversation with Abraxas Malfoy.

"So, Robert!" Charlus started, breaking Robert from his watching. "What are you going to do now? I know you refused Father's offer to instate you to the Potter Family Tree." Robert smiled at Charlus.

"I don't know Charlus. I think I'll go visit my parents." Charlus nodded.

"Well, tell them I said hello. You should come visit sometime! And, uh..." Charlus reddened slightly. "F-Father's offer to instate you is still there, if you need it. I'll be Lord Potter come next year, a-and I'll happily instate you, you're my best mate, I swear!" Robert laughed, and clapped Charlus on the back.

"I'll visit when I'm done speaking with my parents. You know, you could come visit me in the muggle world. I'm thinking of getting my A-Levels now and getting into a good muggle profession."

"I bet you could get those levels with your eyes closed!" Charlus grinned, and, a few minutes later, they all said goodbye as Robert boarded the Hogwarts Express for the last time. As Robert claimed a compartment for himself, he stared wistfully out the window.

"I'll miss Hogwarts."

* * *

Almost fifteen whole years later, when Robert was married and had two kids (_John Robert Potter, who was 12, and Mary Ruth Potter, who had just turned 11_) off at Hogwarts, Charlus' weekly Owl Note came with a surprise footnote. Robert, now a bit more aged with a few wrinkles lining his freckled face, smiled as he stared up at Potter Manor, the wards around it giving him what felt like a hug as he passed through them. It took him five years of constant pressuring before allowing Charlus to accept him into the Potter Family. Robert walked up to the door and knocked. He could have flooed from his home, but he had instead decided to apparate. The door opened up to reveal a grinning Charlus.

"Robert, mate, you're here! Come in, Dorea's in the lounge." Robert ducked past Charlus and took off his cloak, hanging it on one of the hooks by the door.

"I can't believe it though, Charlus." Robert said, as they made their way into the lounge. "You, Charlus Potter, playboy extraordinaire and Mister 'I'll-Never-Ever-Have-Kids-Ever!' have actually reproduced! A son at that!" Charlus laughed heartily as they entered the room. Dorea sat near the fire, cooing down at a bundle in her arms. She looked up at them and stood, a soft smile on her face. She walked over to them, and Robert got a good look at the tiny baby in her arms. The baby had his mother's wild black hair and, when he opened his eyes briefly, Robert saw Charlus' hazel there. "He's cute, what did you name him?" Charlus ran a finger down his son's cheek.

"His name's James. James Charlus Potter."

* * *

Robert kissed his wife, Meredith, firmly on the lips, before giving his children, now 15 and almost 14 respectively, a hug and a brush of his lips on their foreheads. Tears ran down each of their cheeks, Meredith and his little Mary were openly sobbing, as Robert had them board an airplane headed for the United States. He would miss them, but this was the only way they could survive the upcoming war with the newest Dark Lord. After all, Robert was a muggleborn, even if he had been adopted by the Potter Family and even made Godfather of young James Potter. He waved as they disappeared into the plane, before he twisted on his heel and apparated to his empty apartment. He walked into the sitting room, and sat down in an armchair that faced the door. He gripped his ever-faithful wand in his right hand, and waited, knowing that _he'd_ be there soon. Robert let out a soft chuckle. Who would have thought that his first magical friend would turn into a monster? The lonely boy known as Tom Riddle, who befriended a muggleborn on the Hogwarts Express, now hunted the blood that made his first friend. As if summoned, Robert's door was blown open, and a dark-haired, red-eyed, almost snake-like man stepped through the rubble.

"Robert... Potter..." The man hissed, eyes alight with cruel joy. Robert grinned, and relaxed his grip on his wand. He knew that he wasn't leaving here alive, and he had accepted that. He'd only sent his family away because he didn't want them caught up in the Wizarding World's prejudice any longer.

"Tom, old _friend_, it has been a while, hasn't it?" Tom ignored him, and glanced around, his red eyes eventually settling on a photo of Robert's family.

"Ah, yes, and where _is_ your family Robert? I heard that you removed your children from Hogwarts and made your wife quit work with Saint Mungos." Robert shrugged and his grin faded into a sad smile.

"Honestly, Tom, let these games be done with. I know why you're here." Tom smirked and got out his wand.

"Yessss..." Tom's red eyes glittered as the tip of his wand glowed green. "Let's end this _friendship._"

* * *

It was just the three of them. Robert's parents had died years ago and his family couldn't leave the Colonies without being targeted, as such, it was just the three who attended the funeral. Charlus rested a hand on his son's shoulder as they stared at the freshly dug grave of his best mate, no, his younger brother. James, three years old tomorrow, was staring at the stone, not old enough to comprehend what had happened to his Godfather and Uncle just yet. Dorea gathered James in her arms, prompting Charlus to stand from his crouch. He looked up at the darkening sky and smiled, sadly.

"I'll miss you Robert."


End file.
